


A Love Deeper Than the Sea

by Shewolf_of_highgarden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cousin Incest, F/M, Jon Snow knows nothing, Kidnapping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Selkies, Tags Are Hard, selkie arya, selkie lyanna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shewolf_of_highgarden/pseuds/Shewolf_of_highgarden
Summary: Bastard Prince of Dragonstone, Jon Storm,had spent his childhood listening to his mother tell stories of the selkie. Jon had also spent more time than he would care to admit trying to find one. When his mother becomes ill, Jon is determined to find one for her.Jon really should have thought before capturing a fae-woman.





	1. Jon I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfiction in about four years. I'm just getting back into the swing of writing, so please be gentle if things are not perfect. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jon comes up with a plan

The sea surrounding Dragonstone was almost as cruel as the one that crashed into Shipbreakers Bay. The water was grey in the best weather and almost black in the worst, in either case the waves crashed violently against the rocks and many sailors did their best to avoid going to the island. While mothers warned their children of going near it and fathers told tales of the monsters that swam within it, Jon’s mother told him of the wonders of it. While he would never go into the water, he had more sense than that, he was more intrigued by it than others who live on the island. 

Lyanna Stark, Jon’s mother, played a large role in developing her son’s curiosity in the force of nature that raged outside of their castle. Every night when he was a child Lyanna would sit with him by the fire and tell him stories about what lived in the water, about all the mysteries it held. His mother’s favorite stories were about the selkies. According to his mother some of the seals that they saw bobbing in the sea could turn into humans. They would come on to land and slip off their seal coats to reveal human forms. They would spend hours playing and sunbathing before returning to their homes in the water. 

Sometimes on nice days his mother would take him down to the beach and Jon would try to spot them playing. Mother could show him games to play with seashells and how to build little castles in the sand. Jon had always loved those days at the beach, though as he started to notice that while his mother never seemed happier than when they spent time by the sea, when they returned to the castle she never seemed sadder. 

He had caught his mother more than once staring out to sea longingly more than once. When he was younger he thought it was because his mother was waiting for Father to come and see them. Jon had never been Dragonstone, never seen his father’s castle on the mainland, instead every few moons Rhaegar would come to visit them. When Father came to visit mother would talk of the sea, when he was a child she would sneak into his room to tell him a bedtime story involving selkies and mischief, but when he grew out of that he would not hear of selkies or the sea until Father left. He had never understood why Mother were not tell Father what she told Jon, why on nice days their family would stay in the confines of the keep instead of venturing down to the water. 

As a man grown he still did not for sure, but he had a good idea. Kings were busy. Even when Father came there would be no time to go down to the sea, Jon now faced the same problem. He may only be the bastard prince of Dragon Stone, but he was still a prince. Father expected him to take on more responsibilities and believed it was time to have Jon become more capable of being his brother’s right hand when took the throne. Instead of searching for seashells and magical seals, Jon spent his days answering letters from his brother with questions about how to deal with the responsibilities Rheagar gave to Aegon. Jon loved his brother, but for as smart as he was Aegon was flighty and prone to getting distracted by things that were much more interesting than dealing with the squabbles off the lower houses or small folk, like bedding women and jousting. 

Jon had been penning another letter to his brother, reminding him that planning the next tournament was a great honor and a great responsibility. He did not want to ruin his brother’s fun, but he knew who would be blamed if something went wrong. He did his best to not get letters from Queen Elia, but there were times when Aegon did something that got him into trouble and Jon would receive a letter from the queen with overly polite reminders about Aegon’s actions reflected on the entire house, and as Aegon’s brother it was Jon’s duty to help guide him to act with honor and to do their duty. It was a lot of responsibility to put on a man who had never even met his half-brother in person. Mother had always refused to go to King’s Landing and it was well-known that Queen Elia did not want them anywhere near the Red Keep. Still even with the distance he had managed to have a relationship with his siblings, especially with Aegon. 

He had just signed his name to the letter when there was knock on his solar door followed by Maester Cressen. The old master looked wearier than Jon had ever seen him. Cressen may have been old, but he was always bustling around and was never too tired to help when Jon needed. Now, though, it was clear the past weeks were starting to take their toll. About two moons ago Mother had taken ill…not in a physical way, but mentally. Where once she would run the keep or go riding, she now sat in her rooms and stared out the window. She ate little and slept even less. The change had not been sudden in hindsight. She had taken to staying in the keep on days where she would have gone out, then she started to keep to her rooms. She did not want to see anyone, only permitting Jon and, occasionally if Jon insisted, Maester Cressen in her presence. 

“I am sorry, Your Grace, but there is no change in her temperament.” Maester Cressen said with a sigh. 

“Is there is no way to help her?” Jon could not believe that nothing could be done about his mother. Her mood had turned one way there had to be a way to turn it back to how it was originally. Jon had tried different tactics. He had tried to get her to eat more by having the cooks make her favorite foods, he had made sure to have more free time so he could spend it with her, all of the inhabitants of Dragonstone had tried in some way to ease the Lady’s mind, but so far it was all for naught. 

“Perhaps Her Grace is heart sick. The weather has been poor as of late, the lack of light may have affected her mood. Or mayhap she is lonely.”

“Lonely?” Jon asked startled. He found it hard to believe that whatever troubled his mother was loneliness, or heartsickness. When her mood had first turned, Jon had thought she missed Father. She and Father may not be as in love as the couples in songs, but they were man and wife. They spent a lot of time together when father visited, and it had been a rather long time since Father had come to see them. He had not been to Dragonstone for nearly a year, perhaps Mother felt spurned or neglected. In attempt to put things to rights Jon had written his father and mentioned that Mother seemed to be missing him terribly and that both of them looked forward to hosting him at Dragonstone. His father had written him back to inform him that he would be coming to Dragonstone in a moon’s time. He had also said he had something important to talk to Jon about. He left that part out when he told his mother about the letter. Somehow the letter had failed to cheer her up, granted he did not have his hopes up for the particular plan. 

“I suggest having her take a companion. Many houses, great and small, have offered for their daughters to be a companion for Her Grace. Having young ladies here might boost her spirits, give her something to turn her energies towards.” Cressen said, looking more enthusiastic about this idea than the other ones they had come up with. 

“The idea certainly has merit. I will speak to her about it and see if she is agreeable to it. Are there any ladies you would suggest, Maester?”

“I will make you a list, Your Grace. If that is all I will take my leave.” With that the Maester bowed and backed out of the room. 

After sending the raven to his brother, Jon decided to go to his mother’s solar to share the nooning meal with her. A storm was on its way and as Jon walked through the halls he could see the waves crash against the rocks. In the distance he could see dark spots bobbing. The logical adult part of his mind argued that they were probably branches of trees that had fallen and were being tossed in the waves, the other part of his mind whispered that they were selkies playing. Now that would be something that would cheer Mother up. If he could find a selkie, if he could capture one, he would be able to give mother a companion that would truly make her happy. 

First, though, you have to find the pelt…no first you have to find an actual selkie Jon thought to himself. His mother had told him many things about the creatures except where exactly to find them. What was the point of knowing how to capture it and keep it if you did not know how to find it? He could ask mother…no, he did not need to bother her with how to find fae creatures, he needed her to be happy again, to smile again. 

On his way to her solar, he told one of the servants scampering by that he would be taking his nooning meal in his mother’s solar, and to have both meals brought there. He was then side tracked by another servant who the horse master had sent about moving some of the horses to a different stable. On had agreed and told the boy to tell the stable master to do whatever he thought was best. When he finally made it to his mother’s solar (he had been stopped by the Steward asking about food rations after the stable boy) he found where she usually was these days. In her solar there was an outcropping of stone that acted as a rudimentary bench, under a large window. On the stone bench was piles of cushions and furs in order to keep in comfortable. His mother was curled up on it, shoulder leaning against the wall and temple resting on the window as she watched the raging sea below. On the desk off to the side, two trenchers sat untouched. 

“Mother.” Jon called out in way of greeting, before bowing. 

Lyanna gave a small smile and huffed. “If I have told you once I have told you a thousand times, Jon Storm, that you do not need to bow to your own mother.” She said, glaring at him slightly. 

Jon chuckled, in truth he had done in partially to get a rise out of her. His mother was a kind woman, but she had a temper and if you knew how to prick it, you were sure to get a reaction out of her. “Yes mother,’ he said, making her glare narrow, ‘I have come to take my meal with you.”

“I do not need a nursemaid, Jon. If you are here truly to eat with me then you know you are always welcome to come. If, however, you have come here to stare at me while you eat or lecture me on the merits of eating, then I will have to ask you to leave.”

“No mother, I promise I am here merely to eat. I have no ulterior motives.” Jon said as he made his way over to the desk and sat down. His watched him for a few moments before unfolding herself from the bench and taking her seat across from him.

As they ate they talked about little things. How Jon ought to get a haircut (you are starting to look like bear, sweetling), the things they hoped the next merchant ship to pass through would have, and how soon would it be Wildfyre had her filly. Jon had always loved these types of meals, where it was only him and his mother. Where they did not have to talk about politics and all of Jon’s lessons, where they were free to just discuss trivial things with one another. Unfortunately this would not be able to last this meal. Jon wanted to plant the idea of taking a companion into his mother’s head. There was no need to rush, but it was usually a good idea to let Lyanna have time to come around to an idea and let her know it was her choice in order for her to really consider it. 

“Maester Cressen is suggesting that you take a young lady as a companion.” Jon blurted out, unable to come out with an easy way to start the conversation. 

“Has he?” Lyanna asked, she did not sound surprised. She pushed her half eaten trencher away and propped her head on her hand as she studied her son. With a raised eyebrow she asked, “And you? What do you think?”  
“It is your choice, mother. I am merely relaying what Cressen told me. And if you truly want my opinion, it might be nice. We rarely get visitors and are in need of new faces.” Jon said glancing up at his mother and then back at his food. When he looked back up Lyanna was still looking at him, rather unimpressed. 

“And which girl should I bring here? An exotic thing from Dorne? Or mayhap a pretty docile one from the Westerlands? Oh! I know, I shall ask your father to send me a girl from his court! Won’t they all be so happy to stay on this dreary island? Yes they may love dancing, but we have storms and a never ending supply of rain. Yes, this is every little lady’s dream.” Lyanna scoffed. Lyanna’s temper could be cruel when picked and even her son was not always exempt from it. 

“And Cressen should have come to me with this. Do I not get to choose my own companion? Am I no longer Lady of this keep?” Lyanna snapped. That was the real thing that upset her, Jon knew. Once Lyanna had become so melancholy all of the member of the household staff had started to look to Jon for guidance. The reasons ranged from not wanting to upset their Lady more to the belief that she was going mad. Even the well intentioned ones rankled his mother. She may not have completely wanted to run a keep, but she did. This was her domain and to watch as the household and people of Dragonstone turn to Jon must have been hard. 

“It was just an idea mother, truly it is up to you.” Jon said, looking her in the eye so she could see his sincerity. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the starting rain tap against the windows. In the back of Jon’s mind the idea of a selkie companion was still being tossed around. But to accomplish that he would need to find one and find a way to get its pelt. Finally Jon pushed the trencher away and sipped a bit on his ale before looking to his mother. 

“Mother,’ he said, ‘will you tell me about the selkies?” he asked. 

Lyanna looked slightly surprised, but a smile graced her lips and she began her tale. As she spoke Jon had begun to formulate a plan in his mind. It was insane and unlikely to work, but so far nothing else had worked to make his mother happy. All he wanted was for her to be happy, no matter the cost.


	2. Arya I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arya has a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days! Woohoo! This is very uncommon for me. I hope to figure out a schedule...
> 
> Enjoy!

There were few days Arya loved better than the days after storms. When the winds would howl and the sea would rage, it brought a certain excitement with it. The best nights to go ashore were the ones after storms because of all of the things you could find. Land creatures seemed to be forever losing things to the sea, little treasures that fascinated Arya and her younger siblings. 

“Are we going tonight?” Rickon said, his best attempt at a whisper being a normal speaking voice. He had done well to come see her after people dispersed from eating their night meal, but that was where his craftiness seemed to have ended. Her youngest brother was not exactly known for his subtly or cunning, especially when he was excited. 

Arya glanced quickly over to where her mother and sister on the cove floor talking softly while Sansa appeared to be attempting to make seaweed and kelp form something that resembled what the female land dwellers wore. It was not going well from the looks of it. Either way neither woman seemed to have heard Rickon’s attempt at quiet. 

“Do you want them to hear you, stupid? Of course we are going, that is if you can keep it quiet!” Arya hissed. She loved to go on shore, but they did not do it often and if they did it was in coves like this or empty islands. Arya may not have the same infatuation with the land folk as her sister did, but she was still curious. She wanted the chance to explore, and anyway land things always made for the best toys. Shell could break too easily and smooth stones grew tiresome. Sometimes she craved something a bit more exotic. 

Tonight would be a perfect night to go exploring. It had been at least two suns of storms and unlike the frigid waters where she was born, the warm waters seemed to bring in treasure. The colder climate seemed to make the land men hide on land and not venture close to the sea. In part, that was why the family stuck so close to it. When a new babe was born they would stay in the colder waters until the pup could keep up with the pod and even then they would not travel very far until the pup could remove their pelt and put it back on without any help. Her father was very strict about that rule. He was known to lecture on and on about the importance of being careful of your pelt when on land. He was also the one who usually decided when they would go on land. 

Eddard Stark was not unfair to his people, but he was cautious. It was are that members of his pod would go on land that was known to be inhabited. The only exception to his rule was the dark island with the odd looking keep. Every few moon cycles, if no new pups were born her father would bring them back to these warmer waters. To young ones it was an exciting time going from only the sea and rocks to a place with large floating castles and land men milling about. To Eddard, and the ones old enough to know the stories, however it was a somber time. 

The pod would travel to visit one of their own, when they could. It was well known that Arya’s aunt, her father’s younger sister, had been trapped on the island. Arya had heard the story for as long as could remember, a cautionary tale to remind the young ones what could happen if you went ashore alone or were careless with your pelt. As much as she had heard about her, Arya had never seen her mysterious aunt, though, her father would not allow any but himself to go on to the more populated side of the island. Even with the danger he would not abandon his little sister who was trapped on land.

When the pod came to the island they would take refuge in a cove on an unpopulated side of the island. There were enough sea caves and coves that there was plenty to do, but still be safe. They still took the precaution of only leaving their pelts hidden in the caves and sticking close to them. There was always the chance that a fisherman or a hunter would come to close, and though they had only arrived two weeks ago they had already seen ships come close. Arya knew that her father would never have his pod get so close to land dwellers if not for his little sister being trapped on land. 

Though Arya knew the stories and had been lectured on the dangers that were on land, she was still curious. Most young selkies were. It was well known that even well-behaved Sansa had fancied more than one sailor. Sansa loved what they did on shore. Her sister loved nothing more than to hear the songs that sailors would sing, or if they were close enough to a keep her sister would make them all stop to listen to the music that they could hear. 

Both sisters were interested on what was on land, but it was Arya who was willing to break the rules to do it. She did not want to stay in the cove for yet another night. She wanted to go to the beaches and see the ships, to collect shells and flowers. Arya was fascinated by flowers. The ones on land, were so different than those in the sea. That was part of why she wanted to go to land tonight. She was sure with all of the rain the island was sure to have flowers or berries. 

Of course the trip that she had planned had spiraled out of control. She had invited Bran, because he wanted to explore as much as she did, and of course he had invited the Reed siblings which was not a terrible hardship. Rickon, however, being the devious eel he was had found out about his elder siblings plans and had demanded that he be brought along. Arya had tried everything she could, from threats to bribery to get Rickon to back down. She should have known that getting a twelve year old male selkie to back would be impossible, at that age they were beyond reason. 

Of course Rickon could not just have his way, he had to brag about it which meant that now Arya had to bring along not just Bran as he had planned, but Meera, Jojen, Rickon, Jorelle and Lyanna, along with Wylla. She was fine with the older ones, at least her sister and Jeyne Poole had not been added to the list, but she did not want to have to bring along two selkies who were barely out of puphood. Knowing their luck, however, they would never make it out of the entry of the cove. Lyanna and Rickon might be too loud or someone’s sibling (gods forbid if it was one of Arya’s) might over hear and go tell their parents. Arya was still trying to find a way to make the pups stay back, Jory had offered to give her sister a good thwack on the head, but Arya knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Lyanna could be just as head strong, as her older sister or Arya when she wanted something. 

All Arya could do was to try to make a plan that would get them all out of the cove. Wylla would have the easiest time of it. The family Manderly might travel with the pod, but they were not selkies. They were merfolk that had been cast out of their pod at least a hundred years ago. They were eventually taken in by the Selkie pod, led by the Stark clan and the Manderlys and the Starks had traveled together ever since. 

Being a mermaid gave Wylla an advantage. She was expected to go out and explore. Merfolk tended to be more independent by nature it was not unusual for them to go off by themselves from time to time. Wylla had started talking, rather loudly as to be overheard, about going for a swim the next night. She cited being stir-crazed and needing time to herself, if only for a little while. This would mean that the group did not need to worry about the Manderlys finding the youngest daughter gone and going to look for her. 

The rest of them, however, were going to have to sneak out. Arya, Meera, and Jory were known to be friends and spend time together, so tonight they would appear to be sleeping near the mouth of the cave. Lyanna would insist on joining the older girls and they would begrudgingly agree to allow the pup to sleep with them. Rickon would pull a similar trick, saying he wanted to be with Bran and Jojen at the other side of the mouth. Then when they were sure that everyone was asleep, or at least not paying attention, they would replace their bodies with piles of seaweed, slip on their sealskins and head to shore. 

After ordering Rickon to go to Bran, Arya made her way to her mother and sister. They would have about two hours, maybe three before the group could make their way out and Arya needed to make excuses to her mother about where she would be tonight. 

“Mother,’ Arya said as she sat down next to her, ‘I thought to sleep with Meera and Jory tonight. The stars might actually appear and Meera and I have a bet.”

“A bet? What kind of bet, Arya?” Catelyn asked wearily, her mother knew all too well the types of bets that Meera and Arya made.

“I told her that I could recognize more constellations here than she does. She disagrees, she says she knows more.”

“Maidens should not be making bets at all, not matter the subject.” Sansa interjected, always too ready to reprimand her younger sister. 

Arya had to resist sticking her tongue out at her. She needed to convince her mother to let her sleep away from their family pile, not convince her that she was too childish to be left alone. 

“Jory would join us as well. She wants to watch the proceedings and she said she could teach us some new ones. Please, mother. There will not be any trouble.”

Catelyn pursed her lips and was silent, focusing on the basket she was weaving out of seaweed. Finally with a sigh she looked at Arya. “Bran came to me earlier about him and Rickon joining Jojen close to the mouth of the cave. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Arya chewed her lip while she considered her answer, trying not to take too long. “He mentioned it earlier. With Bran and Rickon occupied with Jojen, Meera and I thought this was the perfect night to see who knows their stars better.”

She looked at her mother’s face, trying to read it as she spoke. Mother was not looking completely convinced. Arya glanced at Sansa, who had given up on making land garb and moved on to making her own basket, when inspiration sparked. “Also mother,’ Arya paused and bit her lip a moment before lowering her voice and saying, ‘I have need of their counsel.” As she mentioned counsel she glanced over to where Clay Cerwyn was wrestling with one of his younger brothers. 

Arya felt a twinge of guilt for bringing Cley into her lie, but her mother had been trying more and more to get Arya to spend time with the boy. While Sansa longed to join a pod in warmer waters, everyone expected Arya to take a mate from among those already among them. Not one of the nameless as the bottom of pod hierarchy, but one who would be worthy of the daughter of a chief. Handsome Cley fit what her mother wanted for her. If her mother thought that Arya was starting to harbor an attraction for the male and wanted to speak to her friends about it, she would be more likely to agree. 

“Oh?” Catelyn asked, following Arya’s eyes and then giving her a knowing smile. “I suppose tonight you may sleep with them. Not too close to the opening, mind you. And I do expect you to get some sleep, Arya.”

“Yes Mother.” 

“And Arya,’ her mother said, right as Arya moved to get up, ‘if there is anything you want to talk about you can come to me.” Catelyn gave her daughter a smile and moved a stray piece of hair behind her ear before giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

“I, too, am here to listen if you need, little sister.” Sansa said a bit too sweetly. Arya had no doubt that her sister would help her, but the older girl had always been a know-it-all. Sansa would talk to Arya as if Arya was a child as Jeyne Poole giggled in the background. In fact as Arya walk away she saw Sansa hurry over to where Jeyne sat, no doubt to tell her the latest development. 

Arya went to a nook in the back of the cave, where the Stark clan had set up their sleeping space. She grabbed her pelt from it laid and started to head to the front of the cave. Meera should have been there by now, her father being a lot less strict than her own parents. It might have been harder to convince Father to allow her to sleep in the mouth of the cave, though she certainly would not have had to bring Cley Crewyn into it. Luckily for her though Father and some of the other men had gone off for one last swim of the night. When they got back and settled, Arya would spur her plan into motion. 

As Arya guessed Meera had beat her to their spot, along with Jory and Lyanna. All three of them had families that were high in the hierarchy, yet their parents allowed them a lot more freedom. It was rather unfair, really. 

“Well look who decided to show up.” Jory chortled. Jory found Arya’s need to convince her parents to allow her to do as she pleased amusing and loved to tease the other girl about it. Mage Mormont did not allow her girls to run wild per se, but they certainly lived more independent lives. Some whispered that the girls’ wildness came from the fact that they had had different fathers. They were bred out of wildness and so wild they became. It was not uncommon for a selkie to mate with different males and females, but that was something thought to be reserved for those of a lower status. Along with that the selkie would eventually be expected to choose a permanent mate, which Mage Mormont never did, and it was starting to look like her daughters would follow in her footsteps. 

“It was not a race, stupid. I am plenty early.” Arya said, narrowing he eyes at Jory. She was tempted to splash the girl with a healthy dose of water, but decided to allow this rare streak of self-control to continue. She folded her pelt and sat it next to Meera’s as she sat next to the girl. 

“Aye, plenty early. So early in fact we can talk about Cley Crewyn.” Meera said in a sing song.

Arya glared at the traitor. Did the whole pod know already? It had not taken long for her to leave her mother and meet her friends. She bet it was Jeyne’s fault. The girl was louder than a whale and talked more than any being that Arya knew. If it had reached Meera already then it would not take long for it to reach Cley and she would rather not have to deal with that issue. 

“I needed an excuse for Mother and she was not going to accept the star bet.”

“Aww, she’s embarrassed. Don’t worry, Arya, you can moon over Cley, we won’t tell.” Jory’s coo came out more mocking than comforting and the glee in her eyes confirmed Arya’s suspicion. 

“I am not moon over stupid Crewyn! I just needed to get mother off of my fins!” 

“Hush now, Arya, if you protest so loudly he might think you are serious.” Meera said in mock seriousness. 

“Serious about what?” a voice asked, followed by the youngest Mormont, Lyanna. 

“If Arya protests any louder Cley Crewyn will believe that she truly does not want to be his mate.” Jory explained, as she shifted over so the newest member could sit next to her, forming a tight circle. 

At least not everyone has heard Arya thought, trying to comfort herself. She knew that was foolish. Lyanna was only ten and three, so she would not hear the gossip of the older girls as quickly. The real issue was not if the younger ones knew, though. The problem was that if she guessed right then Sansa told Jeyne, Jeyne told Wynafred, Wynafred told Wylla before she left, and Wylla told Meera and Jory. New moved fast around the pod and that in part was due to ease dropping. Barbery Dustin had been close enough that she might have heard something and if so it would be everywhere by morning. The news was bound to get back to Cley before he even went to bed down. 

Arya should have thought before she had told this lie. The next few days were sure to be full of well-meaning advice from most females and knowing looks from couples. She did not even want to think about how her father would want to sit down and talk to her about it. She also could not even consider if Cley reacted negatively to the idea of taking her for mate. 

“You’re in love with Cley Crewyn?” Lyanna asked. 

“No, I am not. Listen all of you. I used Crewyn as an excuse so she would allow me to sleep with you all. I am not in love with Crewyn and I am done talking about it!” Arya snapped. This was supposed to be a good night, an exciting night, not one that made her want to tear her hair out. 

Her friends smirked at her, but let her be. The rest of the night they spent chatting and laughing. Meera and Arya did try to figure out who knew more constellations, but it ended up coming to a tie. This was the fourth time they had competed about who the stars best and all four times it came to a tie. That was the problem with growing up together, you learned the same things. When they saw movement breaking the waves and coming towards the front of the cave they quickly got into a pile. 

Selkies lived in close familial pods and slept the same way. Different families may make up the pod as a whole, but at night they would separate. Families usually slept in piles, the youngest would sleep with their parents, the brothers slept with the brothers while the sisters slept together. Arya and Sansa fought often, but they usually called a truce when they went to bed, preferring warmth to pride. Even though they were sleeping away from their families the girls still curled together. It was instinct to do so, by sleeping in piles you were not alone or cold and it promoted bonding. 

Arya peaked one eye open and looked at the new arrivals to the cave. The men were returning. The older males tended to stay out much later than the others. They argued that there as better hunting at night, though Arya thought it was because they wanted to go have fun by themselves. Though late night fishing expeditions did not always bring back fish and sometimes when the men kept closer to where the women and pups remained you could hear them roaring loudly back and forth.

Arya closed her eyes again and waited until she could no longer hear anyone. Slowly she lifted her head and looked around. She did not see anyone. Nothing moved in the darkness and nothing could be heard except for the crashing of waves. Slowly, Arya disentangled herself from Meera, before giving her a little shake.

“I was never asleep, you know.” Meera hissed as she opened her eyes.

Meera sat up and Jory followed the movement before nudging Lyanna. Arya watched as Jory handed Lyanna her pelts and gently push her towards the mouth of the cave. Jory followed her, while the other two stayed behind. After a moment Jory returned with an armful of seaweed that Wylla had placed to the side of the opening of the cave before she had gone ahead. Meera and Arya took it from her before Jory turned to get more. 

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Meera whispered. 

“It better. We don’t have a better plan.”

Jory returned with the rest of the seaweed and the girls took a step back to observe their work after adding it to the pile. It looked…lie a pile of seaweed. 

“My breasts are bigger than that.” Jory whispered, sounding almost insulted. 

Arya rolled her eyes. She was not as confident in this plan, but they had come this far. She looked across the cave and tried to catch a glimpse of the boys. She saw a mound of…something and figured they were already outside. There was no way that she would allow her brothers to have this fun without her, not after it was her idea. Besides if she did not go she knew she would never hear the end of it. Instead of staying to bicker with Jory about how accurate their seaweed depictions were, Arya grabbed her pelt and started out of the cave. 

She turned out to be right, the boys already were out there. They were waiting for them in the ocean, Arya could see them bobbing around. Rickon and Lyanna appeared to be chasing each other around. Arya stepped knee deep into the water before putting on her pelt. When she did it was as if her body was sighing. While Arya had no issues being in her land form, she loved be slip into her pelt and return to the sea. 

There was nothing better than bobbing in the waves, to see the light filtering through the water, and seeing the intricate world that was taking place in tis depths. At night the sea was quieter and cooler. Well it had been quiet momentarily because not long after Arya had slipped into her skin Meera and Jory had followed suite. Jojen took this moment to bump Meera, leading her to bump him back. It would have turned into a good nature fight if Wylla had not shown up when she did. It had been Wylla’s job to lead them to the beach close to the ships, not too close but close enough to get a good look. 

Had Arya known what awaited at that beach she would have turned back to the cave. She would have accepted her fate and deal with Crewyn. She would never try to sneak out again. She, however, did not know what was to come. She was young and excited and wanted adventure. She had never stopped to think that this little adventure would cost her something.


	3. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jon gets lucky

Jon was running out of time. It had close to a moon ago since he had decided that he was going to capture a selkie. Almost Every night he snuck out to the beach that he and his mother visited when Jon was a child and would sit and wait until the sun started to rise to go back to the castle. He had waited every night and had yet to see anything except for gulls and the occasional clump of sea weed that would wash up on shore. He was starting to despair, he had been unable to come and watch the last three nights past due to the weather, though that may have been for the best. Going nights without end without sleeping was starting to take their toll and Jon was not sure how long he could keep it up. 

To make matters even worse two weeks into his quest his father had sent his mother a letter informing her that he had set sail towards Dragonstone. That would not have been so horrible if not for the fact that this time Rhaegar expected Jon and Lyanna to return to King’s Landing with him. Aegon and Arianne had been betrothed since Arianne had flowered. The families had decided that since Arianne was a woman grown and Aegon needed to be reined in it was in everyone’s best interest if they wed sooner than later. It was expected that Jon and Lyanna be in attendance. 

“If we are to go to King’s Landing why is Father coming here?” Jon had asked his mother in confusion. It was not as though Dragon Stone was a short ways away, just to get to the castle was a good three week trip, and that was if the sea and wind was being kind. 

His mother side as she looked over the letter again before answering, “To make sure we come most likely or perhaps to make sure we are good enough to be presented before his court.”

“Maybe he missed us. He will be very busy when he returns, he could want to be see before he will be unable to do so easily.” Jon said. It sounded like something Lyanna would have told him when he was younger, something to ease harsh realities. He was a man grown at twenty and still some part of him wanted to hold on to those little lies and hopes. The hope that his father truly did love them, that he was coming to see them because waiting for the wedding was too long a time to wait. 

Lyanna stared at him a moment before humming in response and putting down the letter. “It will be the first time we have been off of this island in years…” she mused, have to herself. 

Jon knew that his mother had a strange relationship with the island, equal parts hating and loving it. She loved that she was surrounded by the sea, loved the smell of salt that clung to the air, loved the sound of gulls crying overhead. She had always been fond showing Jon the little toys you could make out of drift wood and shells and she had always said that there were few smells better than Dragon Stone after a storm had passed through. 

For all she loved those things, she could never truly love their home. She was a captive here. She had never said it to him, for all she would try to teach him of the world beyond their castle she would still try to spare him some truths, but he knew all the same. He had heard one night, she had been fighting with Father. Jon had been about six and Father had come for a visit. He had arrived a week prior and spent it with his family, before turning to his duties. The first night of the second week Jon had going to his father’s solar to show him the driftwood toy soldier Mother had made him. As he got closer to the door he could hear voices, well he could hear one voice, Mother’s. 

“Trapped! You have trapped both of us on this Gods forsaken island! We cannot live like this Rhaegar, we cannot.” She was yelling. 

Trapped? Who was trapped, Jon wondered. Mother could go anywhere they pleased and Jon could go almost anywhere as long as mother or Maester Cressen permitted it. 

“We both know it had to be done, Lyanna. You were unhappy in King’s Landing, it did not seem a hardship for you to leave it.” Jon heard his Father say, by now Jon had crept even closer to the door to try the conversation. 

“I am not talking of places! I am talking of being able to go where I please, for our son to be able to see and explore. He needs more than gloomy island.”

“This island will be his one day. Where should the Prince of Dragonstone live if not on Dragonstone?”

“How about with his siblings? His brother and sister? Instead of having us hide away as if we shame you, as if he shames you, you could allow your children to see each other.”

“Things works differently here Lya, the customs are-“

“Different, yes, you have told me,’ there was a pause and his mother’s voice lowered so much he had to strain to here, ‘ Do you know you are a cruel man? You make me live here surrounded by-“

Jon jumped when a hand landed on his soldier, making him jump and miss what his mother was saying. He spun around and saw Ser Arthur Dayne behind him. He liked Ser Dayne, the sword of the morning was his favorite of his father’s Kings Guard. Ser Jamie was too arrogant and while he like Ser Selmy he was not a quick to play or tease like Ser Arthur was. 

“What are you doing out and about at thing time of night, my prince?” the knight asked with raised brows. 

Jon did not know if he should answer truthfully or not, he did not want the knight to think he was a little boy who still played with toys. He was almost a man grown now and had started training with a sword, he did not babyish toys even if they were made by Mother. 

Looking at Ser Dayne with his kind eyes, however, that the knight might understand. So shyly Jon lifted up the little driftwood knight with his seashell shield and said, “I wanted to show Father the knight that Mother made me.”

Ser Dayne knelt down, so he was eye level with Jon and took the little knight that the boy offered him. He turned it this way and that, seeming to inspect every side of the driftwood knight. “Ah a fine knight. He looks honorable and true. Does he have a name?”

“He is the Knight of Shells.”

“My what a title,’ Dayne said handing the prince his toy back and standing up, ‘I am positive your father would love to see your Knight of Shell, but he is busy at the moment and you, my prince, should be in your bed. I’ll escort you back.”

“Don’t you have to stay and guard father?” Jon asked, glancing at the door that Dayne had moved them away from. 

“He seems safe enough at the moment.”

“Mother is angry with him.”

“If your mother truly wished to kill him, I doubt I could do much to stop her. She is ferocious thing. Come now,’ Dayne said with a smile. 

Jon still had that driftwood knight, tucked away in a trunk that he kept precious mementos in. He wondered if his mother would be happy to know that he had kept it all these years. Would she even remember making it? It had been a long time since his mother had made him little figurines. 

“Jon,’ his mother called snapping him out of his thoughts, ‘make sure to come see me tomorrow morning. We will need to have Kella sew you some new tunics and perhaps a doublet or two for your brother’s wedding. I’m sure your father will insist on it so we might as well start now before Kella and her girls have to rush to do it.”

“You should have Kella make you a new gown, Mother.”

“Perhaps if there is enough fabric. Also, Jon by the Gods have your hair cut. You are starting to look like a large black sheep.” His mother said with a smile and reached out to ruffle his hair. 

As he now sat on a rock on the outskirts of the beach he almost wished he had not heeded his mother on his need for a haircut. Dragonstone during the day was hot and in the peak of summer it could feel like a Dragon was constantly breathing fire on to you, but the nights could be frigid. With the wind blowing and the weather cooled after days of storms Jon had to admit that he was chilly. He wrapped his cloak tighter about himself as he continued to stare at the water. 

He had thought to try different beaches at different part of the island instead of visiting the same beach every night, but he decided to stake out the one that he and his mother would frequent. When she took him here she would often tell him that if he waited long enough he might be able to see them come on shore. She would not have told him that if she did not believe and she never mentioned any other place to seem there than where he already was, so here he stayed. 

Part of him knew this was foolish. Selkies, he told himself, probably are gone from this world just like dragons. The only dragons left were he and his family. Well, not him, he was a Storm. Bastard or no, however, he still had some dragon in him. He was still the blood of old Valyria even if he would never hold his father’s name. The side of him that still believed in magic, that still believed that his mother would never tell him anything she herself did not believe, wondered if that might help him attract a selkie. Perhaps magic called to magic and what little magic there was in Jon would call out to one of the creatures he sought. Or maybe it was his blood that was the problem. He was the blood of dragons, a creature of fire, while he was trying to catch a creature of water. Maybe the opposition in their nature had to do with their magic, maybe his repelled them. It told them to stay away from one so strange. 

Selkies would not be the first thing to stay away from him because he was strange. He had experienced people turning away from him as a child. He had been born on Dragonstone and the island had been his whole world for the first seven years of his life. About a year after the incident with the Knight of Shells Rhaegar had called Jon and Lyanna to court. Jon was excited he had never been anywhere else. Besides that Jon had never had any real playmates the small folk taught their children to be too polite to him to play with and most of the servants at the castle had no children. Going to court meant other children to play with, more importantly it meant meeting his brother and sister. 

Before the trip his mother had tried to gently warn him, not all would like him. Some people were too stupid and small to realize what an amazing boy Jon was. He had nodded when she said these things, but he was still excited in a way that only a child could be. 

Lyanna had, of course, been right to warn him. Had been older he might have even heeded it. The other children at court were…cold, polite to be sure, but cold. They would look at him like he was some spectacle, some creature from a foreign land. Any honorifics they used were typically said mockingly. Their parents were not much better. Jon realized quickly that he might be a prince, but it was not title or courtesy that mattered, it was blood. He was born out of a union that was not yet cemented in the eyes of the seven and to make things worse his mother was from a house in the Northern Wilderness. He did not have a high enough title or enough good breeding to warrant their interest. 

There were, however, for people who made that year he spent in King’s Landing a good one. The first two were his siblings. Aegon had taken to him right away, enamored with the idea of being the big brother and Jon was all too content to let him fill the role. Aegon dragged him off to explore the castle, to spar, to ride horses, to do whatever floated into Aegon’s mind that day. Rhaenys had taken a bit more time than Aegon to take to Jon. She was not mean or cruel, just distant. Jon, looking back on it, could understand his elder sister’s actions. Rhaenys had been a little girl when Jon was born, but she could remember how her parents were after. Loyalty to her mother kept her from getting too close for a time, but eventually she started to warm up to Jon. They would laugh at Aegon and read together. Rhaenys was the one who taught him which dragon was which of the large skulls in the throne room. 

His aunt Dany had also been kind to him. Dany was a year older than him and often joined him and Rhaenys in exploring the large palace library. She would sit and tell him the history of their family. Told him all of those who came before them. She also loved to talk about dragons. Rhaenys taught him the names of skulls, but it was Dany who told him what they did and why they were important. They would spend would spend good portions of the day sitting and talking about what they would do if dragons existed. Where they would ride off to and all of the adventures that they would have. 

The only friend he had outside of his family was Samwell Tarly. The boy’s father had come to visit court and had brought his sons with him, he made it very clear that if he could have he would have left Sam behind or lost him on the King’s Road. Sam was a pudgy boy and spent most of his time hiding in the royal library. One day however the boy had been forced down the training yard with the rest of the lordlings old enough to learn about handling a sword. The boy looked as if he wanted to cry. The master at arms had not gone easy on him. The man would call a boy forward to go against Sam and then chuckle as the boy beat Sam silly. The man said that it would build character and toughen him up, but Jon thought that it was just cruel. Ser Dayne would never do what any of these boys were doing. True knights protect the weak, not humiliate them. 

“You leave him alone.” Jon had said stepping into the loose circle the boys had formed to watch Walder Frey (Jon could never keep their numbers straight) beat Samwell. 

The other boys turns wide eyes on him while the master at arms scowled. “Do you have a problem with the way I teach, your grace?” he growled out with a glare. 

“It’s not a fair fight,’ Jon protested, ‘all Frey is doing is beating on him.”

“If you are so concerned, my prince, why don’t you go help him?” the man said giving him a nasty smile, the man turned to look at the other five boys with them, “Okay you lot, it’s your job to try to get the pig.”

That afternoon was the first time Jon had ever been beaten, he gave as good as he got but by the end of it he was still bruised and achy. He had desperately wished that Aeegon had been there to help, but he was entertaining his Dornish cousins who had come for a visit. After that Sam had become Jon’s shadow. At first it had been annoying since Sam was a worrier and less likely to join in on the adventures that jon and Aegon would go on, and when he did go he would complain. 

Still Sam was the good sort, smart as anything and just as loyal. When Sam’s father had had taken his boys home Sam and Jon exchanged letters. Jon’s would be filled with what he and Aegon or Rhaenys or Dany were going, when he went back to Dragonstone it would be about what he was learning about truly being a prince, and Sam would write mostly about whatever book he was reading. 

If he saw nothing tonight, Jon thought he should write Sam about finding a selkie. The other man would be incredulous, to be sure, but he would not pass up a good excuse to hole himself up in the library. Whenever Jon needed some piece of knowledge he did not have he would go to Sam. Sam seemed to know about everything about everything and Jon had yet to come across something that Sam could not figure out. If someone other than his mother could help him find a selkie it would be Sam.  
He was still considering writing Sam when movement caught his eye. A bit down the beach he saw several figures come on to the shore. It was dark and from his distance he could not make them out perfectly, but the moon was full and it did give him some light to see by. 

Quiet he got off of his rock and crept a bit closer to the water, trying to stick close to the large rocks that jutted out around the beach. He told himself not to get his hopes up, it could be branches or the darkness and lack of sleep playing tricks on him. To his shock, he could out the shapes of seals of various sizes on the beach. His heart almost stopped when he noticed that where one seal had stopped, he had assumed to sleep, a girl was now starting to stand and disentangle the pelt from when it caught on her foot. As he looked around he notice the other figures doing the same. 

Selkies. 

He had found them. After week after week of sitting on this cold dark beach and hoping to find one he did it. He had almost given up hope. If he would have hooted with joy, if it was not so important that the selkies did not notice him. Instead he huddled behind another jutting rock, peeking around it to make sure he could see. Now when he looked he could make out human shapes and hear voices. It was not a language he knew, it was done in clicks and hums. He could also make out the unmistakable sound of laughter and watched as the figures started to tuck something near different rocks. Jon guessed it was their pelts. 

This was what he needed. In order to make a selkie stay with you, you have to have their pelt. If the selkie gets a hold of their pelt they would return to the sea. Jon had a trunk all set up for one, made of iron so the selkie could not open it. All he had to do was manage to get a pelt and wait for the others to leave. 

The gods were apparently on Jon’s side. Much to his surprise a figure was approaching his rock. Jon snapped back behind it and stood as still as he could, listening to the rustling happening behind him. After a moment or two he had to the courage to glance around his rock. A girl was crouched before the rock, covering her pelt with sand. Her hair was wild and her skin was silvery in the moonlight. Jon was trying to get a good look at her face when one of the other figures started to run over. He was sure he was caught, but he still hid behind his rock, trying not to move or even breathe. He hear laughter and a hiss and then the sound of feet running away from his hiding spot. 

He waited a few minutes, listening intently before he looked around his rock again. The figures had migrated closer to the water again and seemed to be immersed in some game. Jon looked down to see it the pelt was there and to his unending shock there is was. A little part left unburied in the sand. The girl must have quickly shoved sand on top of it when the figure ran up to her and did not notice a little bit left uncovered. 

Quickly and carefully Jon pulled at the pelt, until it was all the way out of the sand. The pelt was soft and silky, and Jon marveled at the feel of it. Suddenly, though, he shook his head to bring himself back to reality. Quickly he hurried up the beach again where a large grouping of jutting rocks stood, and crouched behind them. Now all he had to do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Jon managed to do it! Go him! ...kind of...  
> On a side note i know that Jon is older than Dany, but for my timeline (which we will learn more about) to work i needed her to be. And i know Lord Tarly would never take Sam to the capital, but i really wanted Sam and Jon to meet and thats the only way i thought of so here we are. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Arya II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go horribly wrong

The beach was not as littered with treasure as Arya had hoped. It was actually rather underwhelming. The shore consisted of pebbly sand and large boulder stood here and there. Other than sand and rocks there was not much on the beach. Though she was slightly disappointed, Arya was determined to make the most of her time on land. Who knew when she would be able to experience such freedom again?

 

Arya slipped off her pelt before going further inland to find a place to stash it. She knew Rickon too well, to leave it close to the others. Her wild younger brother had a penchant for hiding others’ pelts when they left theirs too close to his reach. He found it highly amusing to watch the others scramble to find their pelt before turning it in to the most annoying guessing game to ever exist or trying to exploit the poor selkie looking for their pelt.

 

In all honesty Arya found his game amusing as long as it was not directed at her. Sometimes when Robb got a bit too high and mighty it was nice to see him brought low by their youngest sibling. Robb would always try to pull rank in those situations. He would put on his I-am-the-eldest-and-you-will-listen-to-me face and give a lecture about responsibility and knowing when something was a game. This never worked, in terms of hide-the-pelt and anything else Robb wanted to lecture his siblings about. More often than not he would have to give Rickon to tag along with him and Theon or give the boy some of the sweet berries that he would find when he visited land. All of the Stark siblings would squabble over Robb’s haul and when it came to berries or other delicacies their honor went out with the tide.

 

Sansa was the most conniving with her subtle tactics and sweet words while Arya (and often Bran) would resort to thievery. It was only Rickon that did much with ransoming off valuables. Not that he was the only one, of course. Theon of the clan Greyjoy, who most likely taught the scheme to Rickon, was known to result to tricks to get what he wanted, though if he wanted something from Robb all he would have to do was ask. The others, however, were wary of him. Half-human and half-kraken Theon had not been able to keep up with his clan. Father and the other men had gone ashore to find a seven year old Theon with his human upper half and tentacle bottoms. Her father, being the compassionate man he was, could not leave the boy to his fate. At seven Theon would be too young to battle the sea alone and being a half-breed would not make his survival any easier. It appeared that Balon, the leader of the clan, had deemed the boy too weak to stay with his group. If the boy caught up then he would prove that he belonged in the clan, if he did not then he would be left to the mercy of the sea.   In the end Theon joined the Selkie pod, though perhaps not fully.

 

While Selkies were not the cruel or uncaring by nature, they were protective of their own, it was part of the reason they stuck together so closely in pods. Pods protected one another, children were raised by the group and they were the ones a selkie would know their whole lives. Even when their second maturity hit and they went off to explore alone they would always come back to their pods. Taking in new comers took time and it was rare for any type of new creature to join the group. It had been a shock to have Father bring Theon back.

 

 Arya did not remember a time before Theon, though. She had been born just after his arrival and had grown up with him around. Growing up it had seemed odd that her mother kept her close to her side when the odd looking boy was around when usually she was allowed to go off and play. Matured Selkies always looked out for pups, even if the pup was not theirs, so pups going from their parents’ side was not uncommon. With Theon, however, it was in part instinct. Krakens were known eat whatever they could, including selkie pups. Full grown Krakens were said to be larger the land dweller’s ships and did not really care what fed them. Often times Krakens were used as warnings to pups to keep them from wandering from the group.

 

Obviously those warnings were only so effective seeing as six Selkies and a mermaid wandered away from the pod. _And nothing happened_ Arya thought proudly. They had made it to the beach without getting lost or eaten or swept off with the current.

 

“Arya! Come on! I cannot do this by myself!” Meera called from behind her.

 

Arya turned and smiled at the sight of Meera fending off the boys as she tried to keep some treasure she had found. Arya decided her pelt was buried enough and ran off to help Meera.

 

For the next few hours the group scoured the small beach and played games. Wylla was regulated to the rocks near the beach, but still managed to join in the fun by yelling encouragements or splashing at anyone she could when they ran by her. Arya and Meera and Jory also made a point of showing her anything interesting they found.  The found smooth pebbles and small shells and not much else, but those were valued items to the sea folk, who used them as tools or as pieces of games.

 

The bareness of the beach also became a great terrain for challenging games of find the treasure and tag. Arya had won her second game of find my treasure, winning a smooth white stone, when she heard a sharp whistle. Wylla was waving and calling something to Bran.

 

“Looks like the fun is over.” Meera said as she came to stand next to Arya.

 

“Time moves to quickly. Maybe we could stay a while longer.” Arya mused.

 

“Sure, and maybe you should tell your mother where you were. I’m sure she will be very understanding.”

Arya gave Meera a half-hearted glare. It was no fair using Mother against her, Meera knew exactly what her mother would have to say about their escapades. Catelyn, unlike Howland, was not going to be good natured or understanding about the situation. Instead she would lecture until Arya saw her hundredth year and never let her out of her sight.

 

“Maybe Wylla just wanted something. It cannot have been all that long since we have shed our pelts.” Arya said hopefully.

 

“I would think you would be excited to get back. I’m sure you could weave you hair with the stones and shells we found and entice Cley.”

 

“How many times do I have to say I am not in love with stupid Cley? It is not as if I could lie.” Arya snapped, sending the older girl a sharp look.

 

“Fine. You don’t love him, but you could be interested in him. Mates do not have to be forever, you could use Cley as practice.”

 

“No one is using anyone as practice! Cley and I are not going to be anything to each other!”

 

“Meera! Arya! We need to go!” Bran called from where his pelt had been hidden along with Jojen’s.

 

Arya nodded, but stayed where she was, still fuming about Cley. She should have never twisted the truth that way. Now she would have to go back and face the consequences. She definitely did not want to go deal with that issue. She would rather deal with the lecture that would come from the secret trip to the beach.

 

 _Coward_ the voice inside of her head called. Arya ignored it. She never verbally confirmed anything, she could always deny it and tell the truth…or at least the parts of the truth that she actually tell. With that plan in her head she began to slowly walk up the beach towards wear she stored her pelt. Glancing behind her she saw the boys go into the water and start to swim farther out to sea. Near the water Jorelle sat in her seal form as Meera slipped into her own pelt. For a minute Arya thought of staying behind. Savor freedom for a while longer, but she knew that was not really an option. Her friends would never leave her behind even if she told her to.

 

Arya knelt in front of the large jutting stone and started to dig for her pelt.

 

She was started to think she was at the wrong spot when something clamped down on her wrist. She snapped to look at it before releasing it was a hand. She looked up and there stood a man. _He looks familiar_ she thought before noticing her pelt was in his hand.

 

Her pelt was in his hand.

 

_Her pelt was in his hand!_

Arya lunged for it without even thinking, her bodying going from kneeling to uncomfortably on her side. She didn’t care that she did not know him, that he was bigger than her, or that judging by the hold on her wrist he was stronger than her. All she knew was that someone was keeping her from her connection to the sea, to her family, and she needed to get it back. She did not even think to call for help, not thinking about how in the dark her friends might not notice the dark stranger or how they might assume she wanted to stay on the beach a bit longer and were waiting a bit further out at sea until she met with them.

 

After she landed on her side the male jerked her wrist until she was kneeling again, his body turned so his body was between her and her pelt. She would kill him if she had to. She could do it, she had watched the males wrestle and had convinced Bran and the Mormont girls to help her practice. Meera would join in too sometimes, but she was better at hunting.

 

None of that was helpful now considering most of the wrestling or hunting took place when they were in their pelts, it was rare they did it in their land form. Even without much practice she still had to try. She would not let some land dweller keep her pelt away from her.

 

Arya bared her teeth and lunged again, trying to get him to release her wrist. If she could do that then there was a chance she would be quick enough to get the pelt from his grasp. She landed back on her knees on the sand, little pebbles cutting into her knees. Arya looked up at the male hissing and barring her teeth. When she looked up at him she realized his mouth was moving. With the thumping in her head she couldn’t hear him, but it was clear he was trying to talk to her. Arya shook her head, trying to hear what he was saying

 

Arya had learned different languages over the years from pod members and the times the pod spend near land dwellers. She had not paid as much attention to it as Sansa had, but she knew some. She just had to remember it…

 

“I need you to listen to me. Can you understand me? Give me a sign you know what I am saying.” The male was saying. Arya was slightly surprised that she knew what he was saying.

 

Arya took a moment before coming up with a response, she may know land languages, but she did not practice them often. The one the man was using, however, was most the one she was most familiar with. She could do this. She would order him to give her the pelt and he would do it. It would all be okay.

 

“G-give me my...pelt.” Arya said as sternly as she could. It felt odd speaking in her land form.

 

“So you can understand me. Good. My name is Jon. Do you have a name?”

 

Arya growled in frustration. She did not know why this male insisted on going on and on. She did not care for his name and she not inclined to give him hers. Instead of answering Arya tried to wriggle from the man’s grasp. It only served to make him hold her wrist tighter and repeat his question about her name.

 

“Give me my pelt.” Arya said, this time more confident in her words.

 

“I won’t harm it, I just need you to come with me.” The male said starting to walk backwards, forcing Arya to quickly scramble to her feet.

 

She struggled and hissed at him. Finally she broke his grasp. She lunged again for her pelt only for him to take a step back into the wall of rock they had come to. Arya had been so focused on breaking his grasp she never even noticed how far from the water they had gotten. Instead of the jutting boulder being beside her, Arya was faced with a wall of dark rock. The man holding her pelt stood in a small opening in the wall.

 

“If you want your pelt you are going to have to come with me. I promise I will not hurt you.”

 

Arya chewed on her lip and looked behind. It was no use going to back to sea with her pelt. She did not want to go wherever that male wanted her to go. Every fiber of her was telling her that this was a wrong, this was dangerous. At the same time everything in her screamed for the pelt. She felt as if she was being torn in two.

 

She narrowed her eyes and stepped up to the male, who turned so she could walk in to the passage. As she passed him she tried yet again to grab her pelt. Yet again the male managed to keep it out of her grasp. She let out another hiss and turned her back on him to look around her. It was narrow, when she reached her arms out her fingers brushed rock.

 

“Keep going. Go straight ahead.” The male said from behind her.  

 

Arya hesitated. She could try again. She would turn and drive him from the cave and grab her pelt. Then she would rush to the sea before changing. Or if she made it out of the cavern she could call for help, then it would be three against one.

 

 _But what if there is more of them?_ Arya thought. If there were more of these land dwellers then they could overtake Meera, Jorelle, and she and then all three would be trapped. She would not allow them to be trapped with her. She would go with this male and then when he thought she was docile and then she would get the pelt. Or maybe she would find a weapon, a sharp rock or shell or something that would hurt him.

 

Slowly, Arya walked forward. As she walked she started to feel an incline in the ground. Along with the incline Arya could smell a difference. Where the beach smelled sharply of salt, the smell in the tunnel smelled earthier. Where there was originally sand, she could now smell dirt. She could see an opening ahead of her, that judging by the light lead back to the outside.

 

When she came to the second opening she stopped. The sand that made up the tunnel floor had changed to dirt and instead of looking at a beach she saw an open field. She had never come far enough ashore to see a place that had no direct connection to the ocean. All she saw was grass and dirt, and there were there were clumps of trees scattered around. Looking ahead Arya could see a large dark structure.

 

The male gently pushed Arya from the tunnel before taking hold of her wrist again. Without a word he started dragging her toward the looming structure. Arya wanted to wrench away from him, wanted to run back to the beach, to get back to the safety of the sea cave her pod was resting in. The closer they got to the structure the larger that urge to flee became. She could see that something was carved into the large stones that made up the walls of what Arya assumed was the male’s living space. The creatures were large and serpentine, except unlike the sea snakes Arya had come to know these creatures had large wings. She remembered the stories that Old Nan had told about serpents that could fly and when they opened their mouths that sun would come out. As a pup she had thought that was fantastic. If you met one of these creatures they could keep the sunlight around and the selkies could play in the sun any time they wished. Old Nan had laughed and that and told Arya it was a nice thought, but if you get too close the light will harm you. Anyone who stood too close or too long in the light were sure to die.

 

Arya did not want to die. The thought of death had never even crossed her mind when the male had grabbed her. She had been too focused on trying to get her pelt back. A Selkie’s pelt was one of the most important things to them, possibly the most important. Because of how they shifted forms they did not put much stock in things that one would own. Treasures were collected mainly out of fun and baskets were woven as a way to collect food on land. The only item that truly mattered to the seal-folk were their pelts. It was what allowed them to go back to the sea, back to their home. Without them they would be stuck on land forced to live without their pod. To almost all Selkies it was considered a horrible fate.

 

Whether or not it was worse than death was debatable. Arya never actually believed that she would have had think about the answer to that problem.  What would happen to her if she did die on land? A Selkie’s death was rare, she had never heard of one dying of natural causes. Most aged until sometime in their twentieth or thirtieth year and just stopped. After that they stopped growing and changing. When one did die their body was taken back to the waters from where their clan originated and left to join their ancestors in the other world. If they killed her on land would her spirit be stuck her? Would she never be able to pass over? Arya did not really want to know the answer to that question.

 

When they came to an entrance into the male’s home, Arya froze. If she walked through those doors would she be able to get back out. She considered trying to get at her pelt one more time, and then thought better of. She needed to think and keep calm. She needed to pretend to be Sansa or Rickon. She also needed to be brave. She was brave. Of course she was. She was the daughter of one of the most respected chiefs to swim in any of the seas, who should she fear? Sher certainly was not going to be scared of some little land dweller. She straightened her posture, and allowed the male to lead her into his dwelling.

 

Arya was startled when she stepped inside. Instead of stepping on to cave floor she stepped on to smooth stones. And odd balls of light illuminated the large cave they had stepped into. It was odd, though, unlike the sun that was trapped in the sky and the light that supposedly came from the flying serpents, this light was trapped on sticks.

 

A hand pushing her closer to the wall behind her startled Arya out of her observations. Arya swirled and hissed at the male, but he was busy taking off what appeared to be his own pelt.

 

“Sorry,’ he muttered, ‘I did not mean to startle you, it’s just that I cannot have you walking around naked.”

 

He dropped his large pelt around her shoulders and shook his head when she started to take it off. “You need to wear this for now, we will find you something to wear soon I promise.” The male said pulling the pelt back up and wrapping it around her, so her body did not show.

 

Arya cursed herself when he started dragging her along again. She should have used his distraction and grabbed her pelt. She glared up at him, determined that it was his fault she did not grab her pelt when she was taken aback. His face looked familiar. His face was long with the hopes of a beard on his cheeks. The hair on his head and on his cheeks looked to be dark and slightly curled. What truly startled her was his eyes. They were grey, like hers. Like her father’s.

 

“Who are you?” she asked, confused at how similar this stranger looked like her father and uncle.

 

“I told you my name is Jon. I am Jon Storm, Prince of Dragonstone. Do you have a name?” the male – Jon- answered as he led her up a narrow hill with odd rocks jutting out.

 

Arya remained silent, unwilling to give her name just yet. Giving her name would imply a willingness to converse with her kidnapper and she most certainly was not willing to have anything to do with this male after she got her pelt.

 

Eventually Jon stopped in front of a large wooden block. Arya tried to hold her look of surprise when he swung the block open leading into a room. Jon gave her a little shove inside and Arya gaped. There were trinkets everywhere. Almost every surface had something on it. She wished Bran could see this. He, like Sansa, was fascinated by what they had on land. Instead of loving the romance of it he was fascinated by what was on it. When something was lost from a ship or washed up to where the pod was staying at the time, Bran would be the first to claim it and run off to Father or Old Nan to find out what it is was or what it did. Sometimes he would ask Jojen, but Arya was not wholly convinced that the boy knew what he talking about…or that he was even somewhat sane.

 

When Arya turned to face Jon she saw him rummaging around for something in a corner of the room. Arya bit her lip and looked around. With all of the things in this room she should be able to make a weapon out of something. Finally she noticed an odd looking boulder sitting on an oddly shaped tree. Arya quietly walked over and picked it up, slightly startled when what she thought was stone felt soft in her hands. Arya decided to ignore that, knowing that she could find out about soft rocks later, what she needed to do know was get out of this odd land home.

 

Arya walked up behind him as quietly as possible. She lifted the soft stone higher over her head and brought it down on to his. Jon let out a curse and turned to face her. She tried to hit him again before he could rise, but he saw it coming and managed to move out of the way. Jon ducked when she swung again and in doing so managed to get Arya with her back to the wall.

 

“You want your pelt do you not? Look its right in that chest. If you can get it, it’s yours.” Jon said pointing to a large square sitting on the floor. Arya ran to what the male had called a ‘chest’, not even noticing that Jon stepped up to the wooden slab and stuck his head out to call to someone. As soon as Arya touched the box she hissed in pain, taking a step back.  She had never felt something like it before, all she knew was that it hurt. Arya squared her shoulders and tried again only to have the same pain come.

 

Arya turned to the male with a glare, “What is this?”

 

“It’s an iron chest. You cannot touch it, can you? I was told that fae could not.”

 

Arya turned back to the chest. It seemed so innocuous. It had no adornments, the only thing that marred the simple sides was an odd looking hole. Arya gently pressed on finger to the chest hoping this time it would not sting. Her hopes were dashed when yet again it felt as if she had grabbed the wrong end of a jelly-fish.

 

“What do you want?” Arya snapped, standing up and turning back to the male.

 

“Um…please put this back on,” Jon said holding his pelt out to her again to cover herself with. Arya rolled her eyes, but did it before raising an eyebrow to him.

 

“I need you to be a companion for my mother.”

 

“No. Give me my pelt.”

 

“Hear me out first please. My mother loves your kind, she has told me stories of you since I was a child. She’s not well and I think if she had you as a companion it might lift her spirits.”

 

Arya looked unimpressed with his train of thought. _At least he does not wish to make you his land bride_ she told herself. Land dwellers believed the Selkies’ love for their pups and their pod to mean that they would make good mates. It had happened to Arya’s aunt before even Robb had been born.

 

Arya took a moment before responding, trying to remember all of the land words she knew. “You will give me my pelt back now and let me leave. If you let me leave now the sea might have mercy on you.”

 

“You are not going to be reasonable?”

 

“Do you find stealing selkies to be reasonable?”

 

Jon stared at her a moment before walking over and picking up the chest that held her pelt. As much as she wanted to drive him down and take her pelt, she needed him to open the chest. He dropped it in in front of the stone opening that had light trapped inside. Arya peeked over Jon’s shoulder and saw that it looked like a small sun was trapped on the wood in it.

 

“Do you know what fire is?” Jon asked her as he walked over to the oddly bent tree and picked a bundle of…something up.

 

Arya was not going to admit her ignorance. Instead she just watched him without answering.

 

“Fire is something that gives off light and heat. It keeps us warm and help to could and create. While fire is helpful it is dangerous, it destroys anything it engulfs.” Jon said coming back to kneel next to the metal chest and looked at the little sun…the fire. He held up the little bundle for her to see before throwing it into the fire. In the fire the little bundle browned and starting to curl in on itself.

 

Jon then took out her pelt from the chest and Arya stiffened. Slowly he started moving her pelt towards the fire.

“No!” Arya yelled, scared that if she jumped at him, he would throw her pelt in.

 

“You act as companion to my mother and I leave your pelt intact.”

 

“Yes. Yes. Fine. Just please do not harm it. Please.” Arya said frantically, closer to begging than she would have cared to admit. She watched nervously as she watched him return her pelt to the chest before releasing a little sigh.

 

“I believe we have terms to talk about,’ Jon said turning to her, ‘I cannot make terms with someone it I do not know their name.”

 

Arya stared at the chest and chewed her lip before releasing a deep growl of frustration. “Arya.”

 

“What?”

 

“My name is Arya.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Six and ten. What does this have to do with what you want from me?” Arya snapped.

 

“It is not unfathomable for me to want to know the basics about you. You must want to know about me.”

 

Arya rolled her eyes. She genuinely did not care about this Jon. All she cared about was getting her pelt and going back to her pod. Not even the punishment that was inevitably waiting for her could be worse than this.

 

“What do I have to do to get my pelt back?”

 

“I need you to act as a companion to my mother, keep her company and lift her spirits. My mother is a kind woman, but she is very lonely. I think her melancholy might be cured if she had someone by her side. Besides you will not age much longer, you will not have to leave her side like other girls would.”

 

Arya looked at him in shock. “You want me to stay with her until her death?”

 

Jon gave her a look as if to say that that should not be a big issue for Arya. “I know you do not die naturally. What is fifty or so decades to you? Once she passes on you can go on and do as you please.”

 

“I- you-this is insane! Fifty years or so? No! I need to go back home, back to my family! I will not do this.” Arya yelled, having held her anger in check for longer than she had thought possible.

 

Jon looked at her wearily. “I will make this easy for you, Arya. Either you act as a companion to my mother or your pelt can go in the fire and you will work as a servant in the keep.”

 

Arya looked at him and then the chest and then the fire. She did not know this man, did not know what he was capable of. Was she willing to risk being wrong? Arya was rash and headstrong, she had to admit that, but she was not stupid. She could not take the risk of him destroying the only way for her to make it back to her pod.

 

“So when your mother dies-“

 

“Of natural causes.” Jon said, cutting her off.

 

“Of natural causes,’ Arya agreed, ‘I get my pelt back and can leave.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Swear it.”

 

“I swear by the seve-“

 

“I have no use for your gods. You will swear by the salt of the sea and all of the faces of the moon.” Arya said firmly.

 

It was Jon’s turn to stare at her this time. Finally he took a breath and said, “I swear by the salt of the sea and all of the faces of the moon that when my mother dies of natural causes you will be given your pelt back and can return to the sea, ‘after a moment Jon said, ‘ I want you to swear as well, swear that yoou will stay as a companion.”

 

Arya rolled her eyes, but agreed. “I swear by the salt of the sea and all of the faces of the moon that I will stay with your mother as a companion until she dies of natural causes.”

 

The two looked at each other for a few moments and Arya was yet again struck by how much of herself she say in him. There was no way that was possible, though. Her father never laid with any land female and he could not be Uncle Benjen’s. Mayhap he was Uncle Brandon’s child. Male selkies were known to take lovers on the land and many had children with different land females. Some would even go visit them.

 

Jon leaned down and picked up the chest containing Arya’s pelt before looking at her. “Come on then. I asked my mother’s maid to wake her. I need to prove you exist, afterwards we will get you some proper clothing.”

 

Jon then walked over and shoved the wooden slab open with his shoulder before leading Arya down a passage way. If Jon had not walked so quickly Arya could have spent hours going down the passages. Hanging on the wall were images of fantastic creatures and land dwellers. On the uncovered part of the wall there were carvings of wing serpents. Arya wanted to run her fingers over them to see if they would fly away. Instead she left to keep up with Jon.

 

She had counted at least twenty winged serpents before Jon stopped at a wooden slab and knocked.

 

“Enter.” A voice called from the other side.

 

Jon set the chest down and pushed the slab open to reveal another room. This one was slightly bigger and a bit messier. Arya followed Jon inside as he greeted his mother. She stopped in her tracks when she saw his mother.

 

Grey eyes stared back at her in shock and then snapped to Jon.

 

 “Oh, Jon. What have you done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! Finally got the two to meet. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and as always comments and kudos are always appreciated.


	5. Lyanna I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Lyanna

Most nights Lyanna did not dream and when she did it was nightmares, as of late she did not even sleep. This night, however, was different. This night not only did sleep come to her, but dreams came as well. In her dreams she was not trapped at Dragonstone, she was a girl again in the cool waters of the north. She was swimming in ocean waters, racing Benjen back to the cave their pod had settled in. As she swam she could hear her pod around her, mother’s calling out to pups, friends chittering together. She kept swimming and could hear Benjen just behind her, calling to her, warning her that victory would be his.

She was just about the reach the finish when she was shaken awake. She wanted to keep her eyes closed and stay asleep a while longer. She wished for the coolness of the northern tides instead of the muggy heat that Dragonstone was known for. She wanted to see clear waters and her pod around her, not the dark walls of her room. How could one person be surrounded by so many things and people and feel so alone?

Despite what she wished Lyanna did open her eyes. One of the servants were looking down at her.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

“His grace asked me to awaken you, your majesty.” The girl said. She was a new one, Lyanna did not really remember her name…she thought it started with a J.

“Did my son say why he wished me to be woken in the middle of the night? Is something wrong? Is he alright?” Lyanna asked as she sat up against the pillows. Jon was never one to interrupt her when it did not seem proper. He was an odd mix of her and Rhaegar that way. He could be her little wild thing, yet at the same time very focused on what was proper and what was not. He did not like to make waves. He had always been that way. It had only grown when they had come back from Kings Landing.

In that city she and Jon were under constant scrutiny. One wrong move and the court would titter about how they would expect nothing less from an unworthy queen and her bastard son. Lyanna would not have cared if they had only spoken about her. She had never wanted to be a queen and the land customs were not her own, she did not particularly care if she disgraced Rhaegar. Well that was not true, sometimes she relished in his clenched jaw and warning look. It was half a game to her.

What was not a game, however, was how the courtiers would treat her son. She may have hated Rhaegar for what he did to her, but she loved Jon. He was almost all her with his long face and grey eyes. He was the last remnants of the family she had lost. He laughed like Brandon, and had the same knowing smile as Benjen. When Jon starting lecturing about whatever it was that was bothering him his eyebrows creased just like her Father. Many said that Jon’s solemn nature proved that he was Rhaegar’s son, but he reminded her more of Ned. Through Jon she was still connected to the sea.

To have to stand there and hear how people spoke about Jon with little that she could do about it. If he did one thing wrong or became too noticeable people would stark to talk. Lyanna remembered when Jon was playing with other boys and came to her bruised and bloodied, but unwilling to talk about how he came to be in such a state. Soon one of the other boys’ mother demanded an audience with Lyanna and Rhaegar.  The woman claimed that Jon had beaten her son.

“What can one expect?” the woman had said with false sympathy, “Bastards are just a bit rougher by nature.”

Had Rhaegar not been in the room Lyanna would have slapped the woman. Rhaegar ignored the offense and called for Jon to ask him what happened. Jon had told them about the boys had been beating up on another boy and Jon had tried to defend the boy. As Jon spoke Lyanna could hear the Lady lean over to one of her handmaidens and say just loud enough to hear, “It is well known that Bastards are liars by birth. Babes created in sin are natural sinners.”

Lyanna had started to rise, but Rhaegar had given her a sharp look. Rhaegar decided to punish both boys. Both boys would have to double their lesson times with their Maesters, cutting down on both of their free time. It was unfair, but not as bad as it could have been…at least until the woman left with deviant of a son. That night Rhaegar called Jon to his solar, alone. Jon had never spent much alone time with his father and while she did not love Rhaegar she did want her son to feel loved by both of his parents. Unfortunately whatever Rhaegar said to Jon did not appear the encouragement and love that Lyanna had hoped for. Whatever had been said that night had made Jon withdraw into himself. He became quieter and less likely to run and play, even with his own siblings. When she had asked him what was wrong he had said that there was nothing wrong. When she pressed the issue her seven year old son had looked up at her with those big gray eyes and said, “I am a prince, mother. I need to act like one.”

That had broken Lyanna’s heart. No matter how hard she had tried she could not get him to be carefree again, to play without worrying what others had thought. Kings Landing had made him grow too fast for her taste and for that Lyanna hoped the city and the courters were swept away by the sea. No matter if it had started too early her son was a stickler for making sure he did what was proper and that included visiting Lyanna in her private rooms only at times it would be proper. This time of night certainly was not proper.

“He did not seem unwell, your grace, only excited.” The servant said as she went to grab one of Lyanna’s shawls to go over her chemise.

Lyanna stood up from the bed and allowed the girl to wrap the shawl around her. Getting dressed was something that Lyanna never truly got used to. She was used to being in seal form or being naked while in her land form. People on land seemed obsessed with clothing and how one cut it and how one wore it. Lyanna was fond of the more simple gowns, the elaborate ones she had to wear when Rhaegar visited her often annoyed her as they restrained her movement and were tighter than she preferred. Knowing what she would be expected to wear in Kings Landing alone was enough to make her dread the trip, not even taking into consideration the other issues.

“When Jon arrives simply send him in. No need to announce him.” Lyanna ordered the girl.

The girl (Lyanna thought her name was Jenny) said, “Yes, your majesty” with a courtesy before backing out of the room.

“Wait! Jenny!” Lyanna called hoping she got the name right.

“Yes, your majesty?” Jenny asked as she hurried back in to the bedchamber.

“Bring up some lemon cakes and ale, though go slow about it just in case his grace needs to talk to me about a private matter.”

“Yes, you majesty. Is that all?”

“Yes, that will do thank you.” Lyanna said dismissing the girl.

Lyanna took a seat in front of the fire the servant had tended to throughout the night. Dragon Stone was usually hot, and during the peak of heat waves Lyanna found it unbearable. More than once she had fought the urge to dive in the waves of the ocean for relief, but Rhaegar would find out. He always found things like that out and when he did he would be angry. He had forbid her from spending much time near the ocean believing that if she did not go near it then she would eventually not long for it. Rhaegar was a fool…a cruel fool at that. When Jon was born her husband started to use their son as a threat. He would tell her that if she went swimming or spent and inappropriate amount of time near the sea then he would take Jon to Kings Landing. Rhaegar did not understand that no matter what he did or how far he took her from the sea she would never not long for it.

That longing was easier to ignore when Jon was a child. He needed her and she did not trust Rhaegar to properly take care of their son. Now, though, he was older, a man grown in fact. When they joined Rhaegar in Kings Landing Lyanna would start the search for her pelt again. She had turned Dragon Stone upside down looking for it when she was first trapped here and had come up empty handed. She thought that he kept her pelt in the Red Keep. At least she hoped so. The last time she was in the Red Keep she could not resist looking for her pelt, even if it meant possibly having to leave Jon, something screamed for her to try to get the missing part of her back. Much to her dismay, or perhaps luck, she did not find it.

 _This time I will look harder_ Lyanna promised herself. At Kings Landing she would not have to look after Jon as closely and with the impending wedding of Princess Arianne and Prince Aegon, Rhaegar would be too busy to be suspicious and watch her closely. She would have to hope that he did not sic his Kings Guard on her. More than once he had sent Jaime Lannister, Arthur Dayne, or Barristan Selmy to watch over her while she was at the Red Keep. Lyanna did not believe that he sent them mainly for her protection. He used them as spies, just as he used most, if not all, of the servants of Dragon Stone. She had sent more than one handmaiden away for being too obvious in their spying. It was rather lonely to be surrounded by people who were watching you, waiting for you to misbehave or crack under the pressure of being queen.

The door opened and Lyanna looked away from the fire to see the person she loved most in the world. Jon charged in, nearly trampling poor Jenny, his cheeks red with excitement and a rare wide smile gracing his lips. Lyanna, though confused why he was so excited at this time of night, smiled back at him. Her face froze in the middle of the corners of her mouth rising when she saw the girl behind him.

The girl was her and not her all at the same time. Lyanna’s heart stopped when she looked at her. The girl was a slip of a thing, the black cloak that was wrapped around her swamped her, making her look tinier. Her straight dark brown hair fell messily around her long face. The girl’s eyes confirmed what Lyanna feared. She knew those eyes, those were Ned’s eyes. The shape was a bit different, the girl’s eyes were slightly larger and rounder than her brother’s, but the clear grey was all Ned. His eyes had been like ice where Brandon’s looked like the sky before a storm and Benjen’s were the color of his grey pelt.

She tore her eyes away from the girl to look at her son in shock, only now noticing the chest he carried. It took her a moment to find her voice and when she did it shook slightly.

“Oh, Jon,’ she said softly, ‘what have you done?”

Jon looked uncertain for a moment, before seeming to gain his confidence back. “I did it, mother. I found a Selkie.” He said with the excitement of a child, ‘Look this is her pelt.” Opened the chest and came forward to show her.

Lyanna stared inside, too overwhelm to speak. Inside the chest was a seal pelt. It was dark grey and looked soft and supple. She wondered if hers still looked like that. Did the color and softness fade with time? Did the magic woven in it start to fade?

She reached out to touch it and recoiled when her wrist grazed the chest. It had burned her and when she looked down she saw a faint red line from where the box had touched her. The chest was made of iron. Lyanna wanted to groan. She had never told him that iron could harm Selkies, could harm any who were part of the Fae, but how was she to know he would do this? She had shared her stories with Jon to keep her memories alive and to allow him to learn about her life off of land, even if he did not know she spoke of herself. He was supposed to enjoy those stories, and maybe she had tried to hint at her connection to the seal folk, but he was not supposed to go and do this.

She looked from her wrist to the girl standing by the door. She was chewing her lip as her eyes flitted from her pelt, the fire, Lyanna, Jon, and then back to the fire. Lyanna felt sick. _Maybe she is someone else. Someone from a different clan_ a small voice inside of her chimed hopefully. Would that honestly matter? A captive was a captive.

“What is your name, girl? Who is your father?” Lyanna called over to the girl, startled again by how much they looked alike when the girl turned her attention to her.

The girl studied her for a moment, suddenly the girl narrowed her eyes and cocked her head seeming confused. _She must see me as I her except she is my past and I am her future_ , Lyanna thought as she studied the girl with the same intensity.

Jon turned now to look at the girl as well. “Answer her.” He told the girl, his voice harder than Lyanna had ever heard it. It sounded too much like Rhaegar’s, and Lyanna felt her skin prickle.

The girl glared at Jon for a few moments before huffing. “I am Arya of clan Stark. My father is Eddard of clan Stark.” The girl said, her words slighted accented. It was clear she was taught the common tongue, but not on land enough to practice it.

That bit of hope that she did not know the clan was dashed. In front of her stood her niece, forced into Lyanna’s presence because of Jon. She wondered if Ned knew yet. Her niece did not look old enough to be allowed to go off on her own yet. Though they usually stayed in the pod when a Selkie reached their maturity and stopped aging they would go off on their own for a time before returning. If the girl had not yet reached her maturity Ned was probably frantic. She could imagine him scouring the beaches for his daughter. He was probably remembering all those years ago when Lyanna had gone missing.

“You’re my aunt Lyanna, aren’t you? You look like father and Uncle Benjen.”

Lyanna smiled slightly, “Clever girl. Jon, you need to give her the pelt back and allow her to go home.”

Jon was looking frantically between herself and his cousin. “Mother? What do you mean you’re her aunt? I don’t understand.”

“I will explain later Jon, I promise. Now give her the pelt.”

“No, mother you have been so sad. I thought the company might be helpful and she swore an oath to stay.”

Lyanna’s head snapped to look at her niece. “You swore an oath?”

“He threatened to throw my pelt into the fire!” Arya said quickly. She stepped a bit closer, now more eager to defend herself from accusations than from the others in the room.

Lyanna gave her son a look at that, even though he was clearly bewildered he had the decency to look sheepish. “What exactly did you swear?” Lyanna asked.

“I swore to be a companion to his mot-, well you, until the end of your natural life. You were supposed to be a land dweller! He swore once you passed to the other world he would give me my pelt back.” Arya said now standing in between Jon and Lyanna, making a small circle.

A small part of Lyanna wanted to smile. The way the girl was so quick to tell the story and make sure it was clear who was at fault made it obvious the girl had siblings. She was happy thinking that Ned, who had lost so many, had started to rebuild their clan.

“Jon, this is not going cheer me up. Give her the pelt back!”

“Yes! Give me my pelt back!”

Jon shook his head, looking completely lost. “I’m not doing anything until you explain to me how Arya could be your niece.”

Lyanna looked at him and trying to decide whether it was worth the fight. Jon had that stubborn look on his face, she knew that look all too well. She had seen it on her own face on more the one occasion. With a deep breathe she gestured to the two chairs in front of the fire place.

Jon had looked to Arya to offer her one of the seats, even as a captor he was unable to forget his manners. Arya had already plopped down near the window, probably hoping the wall would be cooler than in front of the fire. Lyanna would also guess that the girl was uncomfortable near the flames. Lyanna, herself, had never seen fire until she came on land and it had taken her a few years to get used to it. Granted she had to learn to deal with it rather quickly since her husband was considered a dragon and his family had a love for fire.

“You should sit in the chair, Arya, it will be more comfortable.” Jon told the girl. The girl in question just glared at him. The staring contest went on for a minute before Jon sat in the chair next to Lyanna, putting the iron chest in front of him.

Lyanna looked at the two people in front of her, struck again by how much they looked alike. Jon and Arya could pass each other off as siblings. If Lyanna wanted to she could pass Arya off as her own. She took a deep breathe before looking at Jon.

“I met your father on this island twenty years ago.”

“I thought he met you at court.” Jon interrupted.

“Yes, that was the story that was told. The story had to be changed. I was born a Selkie, Jon. The sea was my home long before the land was, but who would believe that? In reality I met your father on this island. I had been seven and ten and my pod had traveled down from the North, like I’ve told you Selkies are nomadic. Back then we would come close to the shore and the ships to listen or songs or hear stories. One night a group of us went to shore and while there I heard singing.

“It was so sad and so pretty that I sat on the rocks and listened while the others who came with me played in the waves. I remember catching a glimpse of your father for the first time,’ Lyanna looked at Jon with a fond smile, ‘he was so beautiful in that moon light while he sang to the ocean. You have been to the beaches, you know it is not easy to hid, but I did my best just to hear him sing. I went back night after night to hear him. He sang of lovers I’d never heard of, of things on land I could never dream of seeing. We may travel by ourselves for a time, but we do not go far inland. What he sang of I had never seen near the shore.’

“What were they?”

“What?” Lyanna asked, startled out of her memories. Arya had moved closer to sit at her feet, though she gave the iron chest a wide berth. The girl sat in front of her wide eyes, looking much like a child hearing an enthralling story.

“What land things did he sing of?” Arya repeated, scooting a bit closer to Lyanna. Lyanna felt a bit of pride in the fact that the girl was so interested in her stories. Stark pups grew up on stories told by Old Nan, who was the best story teller that Lyanna had ever known. If she could keep Arya’s interest then Lyanna must have had some skill in the telling of stories.  

“He sang of red stars in the sky and the falling of cities. He sang of the return of dragons and of love. He sang of the saddest of loves. It was always melancholy, but it was beautiful. I had never heard anything so beautiful. On the fourth night I had to sneak to the beach, I had gone to listen to him I did not hide well. You’ve been to the beach, it’s so bare it is hard to hide. It tried to keep to the large boulders, but he noticed me. He was even more beautiful up close. His eyes were what got me. I had never seen a stone of shell that were as purple as his eyes.

He told me I was the most amazing thing he had ever seen and he sang for me. I was at the right age to start looking for a lover. Usually the first male you mate with is a Selkie, but it would not be such a stretch to take a land dweller to bed.”

Looked over at Jon and noticed he was looking a bit green. She decided to have some pity on her son and speed through the next part, though the story she was telling at the moment may have left out a few important details. She did not need to tell the whole sordid tale, however, she just needed to tell Jon enough that he would understand enough to give Arya her pelt back.

“Needless to say I lost my maidenhead that night on the beach. I fell asleep on his chest afterwards with every intention of getting up before him and going back to the pod. That did not go to plan. When I woke the next morning he had hidden my pelt.”

“You did not stay because you loved him?” Jon asked, his voice younger than she had heard it in a long time.

“Of course not, stupid,’ Arya answered before Lyanna could, ‘he took her pelt. He stole from her, how could she love him?”

Lyanna gave Arya a chiding click. She knew she did not look as stern as she should have. It had been so long since she had spoken the language of her childhood. It had been so long since she clicked or hummed or squeaked and had someone know what she meant. It was something that she was not able to teach to Jon since it would have been too obvious. It felt good to know that she still knew the tongue and could speak it.

“No, I stayed because I had to…but Jon I love you. No one could make me do that and I love you so much.”

Jon opened his mouth to say something when the bedchamber door opened. “I brought the lemon cakes and ale, your majesty.” Jenny said as she came in to the chamber. The servant came to an abrupt halt when she saw Arya.

Lyanna cursed in her head. She had not even considered the servants, too caught up in trying to get Arya out of here and telling her story. It was all over now. Jenny would tell all of the other servants and with Rhaegar arriving in about two days’ time, or Gods forbid earlier, he would find out. There was no way she could send Arya without stirring suspicion. She could always kill Jenny…no…no Lyanna had gone this long without murdering a land dweller and she was not going to start now. She would just have to come up with a way to send Arya away before Rhaegar arrived. She could say that Arya was some girl from the fishing village that Jon had brought to the castle and claimed to love…she would simply say she was sending the girl away and all would be well.

“Who is that?!” Jenny asked startled, her courtesies clearly flying out the proverbial window.

Lyanna opened her mouth to say that it did not matter who the girl was, she was leaving. She was about to tell Jenny that the girl was merely a pretty thing that her son had taken a shine to, but she needed to be shown out. This night, however, luck was not with Lyanna because Jon beat her to it.

“She’s my cousin.” He said in a dazed voice.

Jenny looked back and forth between the three people in the room looking confused. Lyanna changed her story quickly.

“This is the Lady Arya, my niece. My brother was kind enough to send her to me as a companion,’ Lyanna said trying to seem confident in her story, ‘As you know the weather has been terrible and her ship got lost. She made her way from the village to castle. Praise the Crone that she was able to find her way to us.”

Jenny still seemed confused, but was willing to accept what the queen told her. After a moment Jenny put the lemon cakes along with a jug of sweet ale on the small table between the chairs, as she did so she glanced at the girl huddled under the large black cloak. When she straightened up she looked back at Lyanna. “Should I bring her something to wear, your majesty?”

“Yes, her wardrobe was worried on the way here. Get her a chemise and later today we can see about tailoring some of my older gowns for her.”

“I will be swift, your majesty” the girl said with a courtesy before backing out the door.

Lyanna looked back at her son, who was still in looking shocked. She would finish her story at a different time, right now she needed to start helping Arya adjusted on land, so she could fit in well enough for the hopefully short time she would be there. Jon also needed time to take in the shock she had given him.

“Jon, sweetling, for now it is best if you returned to bed.”

Jon looked at her as if not really seeing her before nodding and standing. “I’ll come and join you to break your fast, mother.”

“Good. We will need to get our story sorted, but for now go rest.” She said before reaching up to ruffle his curls. He gave her a small smile and a kiss on the cheek before walking to the door. Before he left he turned to Arya and gave a bow, “I’ll take my leave of you, my lady.” Even confused he did not forget himself.

After watching the door close behind Jon, Lyanna turned to look at Arya. The girl looked back at her and chewed on her lip clearly wondering what was coming next.

“Well, sweet niece, you and I have some work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!   
> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I'm nit sure if i actually like this one, so i might goo back and change it a bit...or not.   
> Anyway thanks again for reading and comments and kudos are super appreciated.


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